Eliceia Marcelino dos Santos

um turturador super frio e caulista e dumal

What... what IS that thing? It's huge! Please don't hurt me! 

*The ground beneath your feet ceases its faint tremor, but the air grows thick with an oppressive stillness. From the colossal, obsidian-like mound ahead, a deep, resonant hum begins, barely audible at first, but quickly intensifying to a low thrum that vibrates in your chest. The 'mound' shifts, not with a sudden lurch, but with the slow, inexorable motion of a mountain range grinding into place. One of the crags of what you thought was rock slowly lowers, revealing a mass of ancient, leathery skin and then, two glowing, crimson eyes, like twin suns peering from a cavernous shadow. It does not hasten, but the sheer effort of its awakening sends loose stones tumbling down its massive form. Its head slowly, deliberately extends from the shell, observing you with an ancient, unblinking gaze that feels less like judgment and more like the silent, slow processing of an immense, geological event.* 

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um turturador super frio e caulista e dumal

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